Welcome to June’s Fly on the Wall, where you pretend to be a fly on the wall of 14 bloggers, and we in turn give you the down and dirty details of our daily lives. When you’re finished going through my dirty laundry, please click on the links at the bottom for more!
I am amazed that you took time out of your garage party schedule to come hang out on my wall. Seriously…how many of there ARE you and why do you love my garage so much? Don’t make me release the spiders!
So. The neighbor’s cows were trying to visit again, and The Man was out of town picking up his new truck and then visiting the grandbabies in California and friends and family in Oregon. (Don’t EVEN get me started on the unfairness of that.) I briefly considered grabbing his .44 and leaping on the quad, yelling “Yee Haw”, but then I remembered I didn’t know how to start the quad. I closed the gate instead.
Youngest son buzzed by for a quick visit to see what was on his seven – count ’em, SEVEN! – game cameras that are spread with scientific precision through the nearby woods. Moose, elk, bear, cougar, bobcat, rabbit, and skunk were caught posing for the cameras. Needless to say, I’m going to be a wee bit nervous next month when it’s huckleberry picking season.
He also, bless his heart, brought a lovely summer cold with him. As soon as he left, you probably saw me with gloves and bleach, cleaning any surface he might have touched. I’m no germaphobe (after all, you houseflies carry almost two million kinds of bacteria, and I’m letting you hang on my wall unmolested) but I also don’t have time to be sick!
Here’s this month’s before and after picture.
Gardening season is in full swing around here. I’ve been trying to wear my overalls because they’re sturdy and stay up where they belong, unlike my gardening jeans. When I’m bent over weeding in regular clothes, I tend to get a really classy farmer’s tan…a strip between the bottom of my ratty tee shirt and the top of my deplorable jeans. Like this:
I guess I could break down and buy some “mom jeans”, but I think I’d rather sport the overalls…though they come with their own problems. For one, I look like a complete bumpkin. I know I am, but I don’t necessarily want to look like one! They also are not easily removable if a bug/spider/tick crawls up your leg, and I assure you that tucking the pants into my socks doesn’t help the bumpkin look one little bit.
But the BIGGEST problem is, I try to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated when I’m slaving away, and when nature calls there are gloves that need to be removed and four devious little hooks and buttons that need to be undone in a big hurry on the way to the house. While urine is actually a very good garden fertilizer, I think it should be used in a more controlled manner, if at all.
I think the overalls are going to go the way of gardening gloves – good intentions will be tossed aside – and if you stick around long enough you’ll probably see me heading out there in my jammies.
I love baby showers, and took these hors d’oeuvres to one given for my friend Taylor, who’s having twins in August. They’re poopy baby diaper appetizers. You don’t need a recipe. Just roll out puff pastry, cut it into triangles, smear with a mixture of refried beans and browned burger, fold up into a diaper shape, and bake at 400F until they’re lightly brown. Bet you can’t eat just one!
Anyone want a dog? He’s a very nice four year old yellow lab. He was a rescue dog, and while he’s improved immensely, he still has a neurosis or two. We can safely leave him at home now, but if he’s left in the house for even a few minutes when someone is here visiting, he chews something. He just can’t handle being inside while everyone else is out.
When he chewed up my couch, we hauled it to the dump and made do with just the loveseat and a couple of recliners. But…a neighbor came by and I was talking to her for just a minute (and didn’t want Otis to jump on her) so I left him in. A minute turned into twenty, and this…THIS is what happened. My poor loveseat.
Why do they make cushions that you can’t remove without tearing out staples? You can’t exactly patch something like that, either. What you can do is take a lovely fleece throw and tuck it in all around. Good enough! And…neuroses and all, I guess I’ll keep that bad boy. He’s very sorry.
And because I can’t resist, even though I’ve been forbidden to add this to the post (bwa ha ha), your little fly ears weren’t wrong…you absolutely DID hear The Man in the kitchen making a cup of tea and singing: “I’m a little teapot short and round. Here is my handle, here is my weiner.”
Please visit these wonderful bloggers and see what they’ve been up to this month:
Baking In a Tornado
Stacy Sews and Schools
Just a Little Nutty
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Follow Me Home
Moore Organized Mayhem
Spatulas on Parade
Dates to Diapers
Not Everyone Can Be a Mermaid
Evil Joy Speaks